


you know you got it when you're going insane

by theomegapoint



Series: Kinktober 2018 [10]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: (if that makes you feel better about it), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Animagus Bestiality, Bestiality, Established Relationship, Implied Mpreg, Kinktober 2018, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-08-01 10:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16282790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theomegapoint/pseuds/theomegapoint
Summary: “Percival,” he says. The wampus looks over at him and blinks. “We've talked about this.”As if it doesn't even understand him, the wampus flops onto the floor and rolls over to expose its belly. Newt bends down so he can look the wampus in the eye, but pointedly does not give a belly rub that's so obviously being asked for. There arerules, even if Newt doesn't enforce them as much as he should, and part of that is not rewarding bad behavior. He has an easier time with that—it's harder to overcome his biological nature as an omega when the punishments are harsh, and easier when he can justify it away as being necessary for their wellbeing.“Percival,” Newt says again. “Don't pretend like you don't understand me—I know perfectly well that you do.”





	you know you got it when you're going insane

For all the things that Newt has seen in his travels, he thinks that the wampus might be his favorite. He would never say that directly to the wampus that is currently traveling with him, but he thinks it all the same as the creature weaves through his legs. Newt nearly stumbles, but at this point he's more used to it that he probably should be. At some point, he's just enabling poor behavior.

“Percival,” he says. The wampus looks over at him and blinks. “We've talked about this.”

As if it doesn't even understand him, the wampus flops onto the floor and rolls over to expose its belly. Newt bends down so he can look the wampus in the eye, but pointedly does not give a belly rub that's so obviously being asked for. There are _rules_ , even if Newt doesn't enforce them as much as he should, and part of that is not rewarding bad behavior. He has an easier time with that—it's harder to overcome his biological nature as an omega when the punishments are harsh, and easier when he can justify it away as being necessary for their wellbeing.

“Percival,” Newt says again. “Don't pretend like you don't understand me—I know perfectly well that you do.”

The wampus yowls. Newt sighs, getting up and walking away, which only causes the wampus to yowl more. There's still work to be done around the case, and Newt can't set it all aside because of one overly needy wampus. He makes the rounds, making sure that everyone is fed and settled in for the night, and the wampus trails behind him. At the very least it's stopped yowling incessantly, which is good since it wasn't as if Newt would give it what it wanted merely because it was being annoying.

All of the other creatures in the case pay no mind to the wampus. It's a fixture now, in the same way that Dougal or Pickett is, and even the newer creatures have come to the realization that it's not as if Newt would let anything roam free that would harm one of the other creatures. They seem to trust that their effective alpha, leader and mother at the same time, has their best interests at heart.

When Newt's made sure that everything is taken care of, he finally heads back to the tiny cabin he'd made for himself. There's a habitat for every creature that lives in the case, Newt included, save for the wampus. It's not an oversight, really, given that the wampus is not precisely a permanent or even long-term relative. It's just present when it wants to be and nowhere to be found when it doesn't, which makes it a tad bit difficult to make a habitat for. The wampus follows Newt inside his cabin, rubbing against his legs, and Newt absently reaches down to pet its head. It makes the wampus purr, and Newt chuckles.

“You're purring again.” The wampus doesn't stop, but it does bump into Newt's legs and make him stumble. “It's cute! You're very cute when you purr.”

There's an obviously annoyed huff from the wampus, and Newt laughs again as he makes his way across the cabin to the tiny space he's carved out as a bedroom. It's not a particularly large room—Newt prefers most of the space in his suitcase be reserved for his creatures—but it's not cramped either. Well, not anymore.

After he'd been caught off-guard by the wampus following him into his bedroom, Newt had expanded the bedroom slightly so he could make the bed large enough to fit one man and one rather large cat. Now it's almost routine for Newt to strip down while the wampus watches him from the bed. He used to wear clothes to bed, but he's stopped doing that when the wampus sleeps with him.

(When Percival sleeps with him, there's less chance that Newt will lose another nightgown to overly eager claws and he usually wears something. Percival isn't as warm to sleep with as the wampus is, so there's something of a trade-off there, and it's not as if Newt minds having to wear clothes terribly. Neither Percival or the wampus is better than the other, Newt thinks. They're just different.)

Newt crawls into bed, and the wampus obligingly makes space before nosing at Newt's stomach. It's not quite a question, but Newt feels compelled to answer anyway.

“No,” he says, scratching behind the Wampus' ears, “not yet. I don't think it'll take outside of a heat, you know.”

The wampus yowls, and Newt things it sounds annoyed about this turn of events. Really, it's quite funny how much of Percival is retained within the wampus' mannerisms. They both have a particular tone that means annoyance, and Newt rolls his eyes. He's terribly fond of his mate, which is good because this behavior would be rather annoying without the rosy tint of love.

“I've already explained this, Percival. If you would just be _patient_ , we could try during my next heat and—oof.”

In the middle of his explanation, the wampus shifts and suddenly pins Newt to the bed. There's a wet nose rubbing along the line of his neck, and Newt can feel his body warm in response. He feels his legs fall open naturally, feels the wampus shift over him until everything is lined up and the wampus can trust forward. It's a practiced movement, but Newt still cries out when it happens.

He breathes through the first few moments, the wampus obediently not moving until Newt croons, low and sweet. It's a good thing he reinforced the bed with magic when he'd expanded it, because it shifts and creaks a little bit ominously under all the movement. Newt's not stupid enough to think that the wampus would much care if the bed broke during mating, but _Percival_ would and Newt tries to take both into consideration wherever he can.

(Percival's never said how much he remembers when he switches between forms and Newt doesn't ask, figuring that if Percival wants to tell him then he will in time.)

It's over almost as suddenly as it began, the wampus knotting him and then draping over him like a blanket. If Newt wasn't so used to the weight, he thinks it might be uncomfortable but as it is, he's so used to being crushed by any number of creatures from occamy to mooncalves that the weight of one wampus isn't that much of a problem at all.

“You're such a brute,” Newt says. He tries to adjust the wampus on top of him so he's taking less of the weight. “It's a lucky thing I love you, isn't it?”

In response, the wampus just noses at Newt's neck again and purrs.

“Yes, yes.” Newt scratches behind the wampus' ears. “Perhaps this time it'll take.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, friends, you just have to look at the prompts for a day and admit that none of them are really your thing. Then you replace it with something else that works for the pairing you're going to write and call it a day.


End file.
